


You Have Shed A Thousand Skins

by Authorship



Category: Naruto
Genre: Assholes Be Warned, Danzo too, F/F, F/M, Gen, Genius!Hanabi, Hanabi Angst, Hanabi is in control, Hanabi rules the fricking world, Hinata actually has developement, Hinata angst, Hyuuga Clan is a clusterfuck, Hyuuga Neji Lives, Literally she will destroy anyone who stands in her way, M/M, Multi, Neji Angst, Orochimaru is a dick and Hanabi will crush him under her little sandal, Other, Time Travel, Women Being Awesome, and not just in the stupid ninja way either, basically kunoichi kicking ass and taking names, things will be right and happy and she'll make damn well sure of it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 06:46:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14889629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Authorship/pseuds/Authorship
Summary: “You have shed a thousand skins to become the person you are today.” Hanabi was smart. Sharp as the weapons she’s wielded since she was able to walk, the second daughter of the Hyuuga Head has little patience for the ploys of those around her. Whether her family or S Rank Missing-nin...She’d destroy them all.





	1. The Heiress

…………………………………………

 

“ _ You have shed a thousand skins to become the person you are today.” _

 

………………………………………….

 

The stadium was packed despite the abruptness of recent events. A few hours previous, at the conclusion of the second stage of the Chuunin exams, the announcement had suddenly gone out that the first trials - to choose who would continue on to the third stage - would be held in the village's main arena and would be fully open to the public. In the heat of the moment, only a few Clan members had been available to attend. Despite this, the turn-out was… considerable.

 

The crowds were roaring, voices thunderous and shaking fists raised to the sky in enthusiasm and outrage as the match below dragged on and on. The stamping of feet in the tiered stadium, masses of people moving and yelling and, in the pit below, two small figures were a blur of motion.

 

Two Genin exchanged vicious blows, each deflected strike and painful hit earning boos and cheers. A man above them was cursing out the kunoichi for hesitating, the second of weakness having lost her even more ground,  and Hanabi was in firm agreement, no matter how uncouth the sentiments themselves.

 

The female’s guard slips again, for the fifth time in the past six minutes, and the harsh ‘ _ smack’ _ as a chakra-powered palm slams into her shoulder is drowned out by the answering din.

 

In the pit below, two Hyuuga battle for dominance.

 

“Hanabi.”

 

Lavender eyes rise from where they stared, entranced, at the on-going battle to meet an identical pair beside her.

 

“Pay close attention to your sister...her weakness will be her ruining.”

 

Hyuuga eyes, the Byakugan dojutsu, always developed in characteristically pearlescent irises, with little-to-no white sclera and no pupil. There was always slight differences from person to person; Hinata’s were slightly darker than most whilst Neji’s eyes were as cold and white as deep-sea pearls.

 

Hanabi’s were exactly the same as her father’s.

 

And the Clan Head had only taken such a detail, their ‘identical’ Byakugan, as further confirmation that his youngest would prove a better successor.

 

Wordlessly, Hanabi nods, even as her eyes immediately latch back onto the fight below.

 

In the arena, Hinata staggers backwards a few steps, an involuntary whimper wrenched from her lips when Neji pursues her relentlessly. His strikes are ceaseless and, from the pallor of his face and his Byakugan, he looked like a vengeful ghost come to extract some punishment from the trembling Heiress.

 

Eyes detached, Hanabi did not look away.

 

Hinata pleaded, crying out “Neji-nii-san,”, even as the village troublemaker and her teammates encouraged her efforts.

 

It was futile, Hanabi had long ago decided. She’d known it as a child, when she was small enough to still cling to her sister’s skirts or link their pinkies together. Hinata was everything soft and gentle, like the orchids she so digelently cared for on her window sill. 

 

Orchids were pretty, feeble things, that had to be carefully monitored. They meant nothing when it came to being a good shinobi...and neither did Hinata.

 

She’d known in her room, peeking out between the blinds to catch glimpses of her sister crying by the koi pond after being beaten to the ground in her training. She’d known it when Hinata could barely lay a finger on their cousin, on  _ her,  _ kicked across the room by their own father. It was impossible, a foolish pursuit of a goal Hinata herself wasn’t even sure of.

 

At this point it was almost intrinsic; Hinata...was weak. Hinata...would lose.

 

And she did.

 

Neji was yelling, Hinata’s slumped shoulders struggling to straighten, and then their frantic attacks came to a standstill.

 

But there could only be one victor.

 

And it was then that Hinata collapsed, coughed up blood in choked gurgles, the sound shockingly loud in the frozen stadium. Crimson splattered across pale skin and packed dirt before Hinata slumped, boneless, to the floor.

 

Medics rushed to aid her, the Tokubetsu proctor and another Chuunin reaching to restrain an incensed Neji, and her sister’s yearmates exploded in outrage. The crowds surrounding them murmured in discontent, the bloodthirstiness all-but-evaporated at the brutal finale of a battle between clansmen, between family.

 

Hanabi’s eyes had not wavered, her fingers yet to tremble, and her smooth mask was untouched.

 

Beside her, Hiashi expressed nothing but apathy. But his eyes…his eyes were disappointed.

 

………………………………………………..

 

The corridors beneath the stadium were reserved for private waiting rooms, the proctors quarters, and as a short-cut to the hospital, which was just a ten-minute walk towards the village center.

 

It was utilitarian, as expected, with plain concrete as far as the eye could see and cheaply lit with panel lights that occasionally flickers from the raging match above them. The red-head had eluded a bloodthirstiness unparallel to any Hanabi had ever felt before, which, at almost eight years old, wasn’t a great amount.

 

But his opponent was one of her cousin’s teammates and Hanabi had seen Neji return to the Compound with bruising on several occasions. Perhaps it would not be a complete massacre, then.

 

An explosion sounded overhead and was swiftly followed by a piercing shriek, a terrible sound that cut through the concrete and drilled into Hanabi’s eardrums with a bolt of pain.

 

The academy student barely managed to contain her flinch, pale eyes flickering to catch the subtle shake of her father’s shoulders. Her own slip was forgivable then, if her father’s own mask had slipped.

 

Good. 

 

The corridors were eerily quiet as the two Hyuuga walked, silent but for the echoing of their footsteps. Hiashi was silent, hands tucked into his long sleeves, and frown severe. He’d yet to speak a word since her sister’s defeat, by a Branch member no less, but he did not need to.

 

Hanabi knew full well what thoughts were raging in his head, what he planned to do, the consequences of this day.

 

“Otou-sama,” Hanabi’s high, reedy voice echoed strangely in the long corridor and Hiashi’s head slowly turned to survey her, expression inscrutable. 

 

“Yes, daughter?”

 

Face serene, the small brunette fought to keep her nerve, lest any limb tremble or feature flicker to reveal anything. “Onee-san was badly hurt,” Hiashi did not so much as blink. “Neji-niisan is much stronger than she is and my sister paid the price.”

 

The corridor finally opened up, the walls widening into an informal atrium to the far side of the hospital reception. Her father’s dojutsu activated for a brief moment before, with an expansive sweep of his hand, he led the two of them through the double doors and into the wards. 

 

Without prompting, Hanabi continued, carefully picking her way around the delicate subject. “Neji-niisan is strong, stronger than most. Stronger than any other Hyuuga at his age.”

 

Hiashi jerked to a stop, his head stiffly inclining to pierce his youngest with a disapproving look. “Hanabi.”

 

There was a thousand sentiments in that single word. Hanabi demurely lowered her lashes like the little princess she was...and continued on mercilessly.

 

“Hinata is weak.” Hiashi’s sharp gaze shifted, the bite latching onto a different victim, and Hanabi felt no guilt. “She is weak against Neji...but not the other Hyuuga.”

 

They stopped walking.

 

“Onee-san is not an exceptional fighter, no...but she is not a poor one. Otou-sama, Hinata has been placed against a far superior opponent. Our Clan has Jounin who would struggle against Neji-niisan. He has exceptional shinobi skills...and a hateful grudge against Onee-san. Their fight was twice as violent, then.”

 

Sucking in a careful breath, Hanabi went for the finishing blow.

 

“Onee-san is a weakness but not an exceptional one. Neji-niisan is an exceptional shinobi and, perhaps, he will become one of our Clan’s greatest fighters...but, as things are now, he’s a weakness. His hatred for Hinata has blinded him to the values of our Clan.”

 

Blank eyes calculating, Hiashi spoke coldly. “He is a Branch member.”  _ He bears the seal. _

 

Identical pearlescent lavender stared back. “He needs to be removed from the situation. After all, he blames Onee-san for the death of our uncle.”

 

And  _ there.  _ There was the faltering that Hanabi had been looking for, the tiny kink in their father’s armour. The younger daughter pressed her advantage before her father had time to emotionally shut down, closing this conversation forever.

 

“Hinata would be better off with Neji-niisan’s trainers.”

 

The Clan Head shifted his torso to face the student, his first true acknowledgement that he was even listening to her, and Hanabi fought to keep the satisfied smirk from her lips. Now was not the time.

 

“She is a failure, a disgrace to our House.”

 

A second acknowledgement, that the leadership of the Clan fell to the two of them, Head and second daughter, bolstered her confidence.

 

“Even the weakest can learn, given enough time. She is not enough, will never be enough but…” Hanabi thought of gentle smiles and soft orchid eyes, a gentleness that had once filled her with warmth and now only brought about a bitterness that sank like a stone in her chest.  _ For...for old times’ sake.  _ “...to discard Onee-san completely would be an acknowledgement of defeat.”

 

Hiashi may as well have been carved of stone. “And Neji?”

 

Hanabi’s chin tilted up defiantly. “He is our strongest Branch member, maybe ever. And, one day, he’ll be our top fighter...Let him train with me.”

 

_ Let him train with the new Heir. _

 

…………………………………………………….

 

A scant half an hour later and Hiashi left, sweeping from the hospital room with barely a glance at his youngest and without a shred concern towards his eldest.

 

His eldest who was currently hunched over in her bed, tears streaming down crimson cheeks - red in shame rather than the usual embarrassment - and her hands clasped to her bandaged chest.

 

In the chair beside her, Hanabi shifted uncomfortably, large eyes fixed on the overhead lamp shade, as if meeting her sister’s gaze was paramount to expressing concern.

 

That Hanabi was  _ not  _ feeling.

 

“H-Hanabi-chan,” the injured Genin hiccuped weakly, “was today not a training day?” 

 

Gnawing her lip, the younger girl admitted to herself that ignoring her sister was both childish and counterproductive at this point. 

 

“Yes, but watching the fights proved educational, too.” It went unsaid that not only had Hiashi insisted they both attend to see Hinata perform, but he had been bitterly angry at her failure. It had been a grave slight to the Main Branch and fully in the public view on top of that; the Elders would be raging for weeks over this day. The atmosphere soured further, regardless. 

 

As one, both girls dipped their heads to fiddle with their fingers and avoid looking at each other. 

 

“O-oh.”

 

“How...how long until you are released?” Hanabi’s voice was muted.

 

The rustle of the cheap hospital gown as Hinata shrugged was awkwardly loud. “A...awhile, t-the medics ha-ave to see how quick-ly my i-internal bruising heals.”

 

“Oh..”

 

Hanabi’s mouth parted once, twice, as she wondered what there was to say.  _ I hate you? I wish you were stronger?  _ Hanabi may as well have said that she wished Hinata wasn't  _ Hinata. _ And Hanabi refused to waste time of stupid, pointless hopes anyway. She was done being that stupid.

 

The tension had thickened so much at that point that, when disruption burst out in the corridor outside, it took everything within Hanabi to remain impassive. Hinata, high strung and lacking such stern self-discipline, jerked with a painful squeak. 

 

The door was then flung open, smacking into the wall with a  _ bang  _ that had Hinata flushing, even as Hanabi climbed to her feet and resisted the urge to pinch her nose. 

 

“Hinata-chan!! Are you okay?” A scruffy brunette, the door abuser, bounced through the entryway with a heavy frown, his grimacing mouth flashing sharpened teeth and pulling at red Clan markings. Urgh, an  _ Inuzuka.  _

 

A taller boy, Aburame judging by the clothing and the aggravated buzzing that belied his worry, followed after his teammate, shutting the door with a polite  _ click _ .

 

_ Oh, excellent. Now I'm boxed in. _

 

Ignoring her sister’s stuttering reassurances, Hanabi slowly shifted towards the window and turned her back on the team behind her. When her face was fully concealed, the seven year old silently activated her Byakugan.

 

It took only half an instant for her perception to go through to roof. 360° Vision had taken some getting used to as a child but now it was as easy as breathing. After taking a second to simply  _ feel  _ the world around her with heightened awareness, Hanabi focused in on her target. The trio behind her were oblivious, although they seemed slightly unsettled by her presence. Usually, by now Hanabi would have bolted. But...

 

_...There. _

 

Neji was but a few corridors away, a nurse performing the obligatory check up after the long second stage and fight earlier. From here, Hanabi could easily see that he was fine, a few limbs stiff and a handful of bruises on one side. Most of all, judging by the flow of chakra, her cousin was just plain tired.

 

“H-Hanabi-chan…” her sister piped up behind her and Hanabi immediately deactivated her dojutsu and pasted a bland expression on her face. Aburame may be loners and Inuzuka loud but neither Clan was to be underestimated.

 

“Yes?” 

 

The two boys had seated themselves either side of the older girl, the bespeckled boy in the chair she'd vacated and the other brunette flopped casually at the foot of the bed. Nevermind the fact that Hinata was fresh from heart surgery. Nevermind the fact that she was so weak she'd undoubtedly catch something from that dusty dog in her lap.  _ Never mind.  _

 

“W-would you like o-one of the t-treats  sensei sent us?” Hinata carefully extended the lovingly arranged box of sweets. Sticky panda faces smiled up at her.

 

Urgh... _ her. _

 

Red eyes and curly black hair with a carefully friendly smile flashed through Hanabi’s mind.

 

_ I'd rather eat dirt than anything that woman has prepared.  _

 

“No, I'm going to go visit Neji-niisan.” Hanabi bit out coldly, turning away from her sisters stricken expression and completely ignoring the rising anger of the two boys present. 

 

_ Why...why am I even here? _

 

It was deceptively easy to cross the room and push down the handle, swinging the door open to an empty corridor. Behind her, Hinata was silent but for her shaky breaths. 

 

No doubt she'd be miserable for the remainder of the day, maybe even cry again. Her teammates would smother her in attention and affection and she'd soak it all up like a bone-dry sponge. And,  _ then,  _ her sensei would coming sweeping in and Hinata wouldn't return to the Compound for a long time.

 

Hanabi had no time for that, wasn't allowed to cry, and the thought only hardened her heart.

 

It was even easier now to close to door behind her, cutting off the Inuzuka’s angry “Oi!” before it was even fully formed. No doubt the older boy would kick up a fuss about her. But it wasn't as if her sister would defend her any time soon. Not that she had any reason to.

 

_ Disregarding the fact I’m the only reason she's still a Hyuuga. _

 

Setting her jaw and waving away that heavy thought, the small brunette started making her way down the hall as she activated her Byakugan once more.

 

“Urgh…” she huffed under her breath, clicking her tongue and swinging back toward the exit instead. 

 

Neji was already making his way, via the rooftops, to the Compound. Noting his speed, and the likelihood of the older boy disappearing to brood, Hanabi strode to the nearest window and levered herself over the sill, silently landing on the ledge. It was a sheer drop of four floors to the pavement below but there was a shorter roof a hundred or so meters to the left. 

 

Hanabi was pretty tiny, only 7 ( _ nearly  _ 8) and short for her age, but she was confident she'd make it across in one leap. Nothing less would do.

 

It had taken a long time, and a lot of effort, for Hanabi to be able to channel the chakra to her feet with nary a thought, just the right amount to have her arching through the air from the window sill. The wind snapped at her shrug, tugging at her long loose hair, before she landed on the cobbled roof with a clatter of sandals on terracotta.

 

The tiles were slightly wet from the morning rainfall, half dried in the spotty sunlight, but the small brunette channelled chakra to her feet just in case. 

 

It would be ridiculous to be seen slipping and sliding all over the place, after all…

 

Her Byakugan had not wavered since she’d realised Neji had already left and, now, she followed his chakra signature across rooftops, heading towards the forests closest to the Compound. Knowing that she didn't have the chakra to waste with an increase of speed, a frown pulled at her brows as  her cousin slowly pulled away in front of her. 

 

A couple of Chuunin stuttered to a halt when Hanabi ran across the rooftop in front of them, freezing in disbelief that a small child was able to maneuver the upper levels of the village with a technique usually reserved for Genin.

 

_ Huh,  _ Hanabi’s lips twisted as her dojutsu registered their flabbergasted expressions. She was a Hyuuga and had been training day in and day out since she had been able to walk... _ ignorance was only for those who could afford it. _

 

Kami knew Hanabi had never been allowed such a luxury.

 

With a final push, Hanabi landed a few streets away from the Hyuuga Gates (a futile effort, really, but even shinobi let their guards down inside their homes) and set off straight passed it.

 

Her hair was windswept, a stubborn strand falling across her nose no matter how many times she tucked it behind her ear, and her yukata was in need of some adjustment. Then again, her cousin was hardly going to nit-pick at her unlady-like appearance. In all honesty, Hanabi would hardly be surprised if the sight of her alone, especially after he publically tried to stop her sister’s heart, incited even  _ more  _ violence.

 

Her... _ friends... _ would be insufferable if she came back looking like she’d been mauled.

 

Picking her way through the trees, the foliage gradually grew thicker the deeper she ventured until ferns were brushing her cheeks and the canopy was like a cave overhead. It was then that the forest abruptly ended, the treeline cutting off into a man-made clearing, formed from a training incident no doubt. The grass was neatly maintained, a short carpet beneath their feet, and empty save for some targets and a punching log. In the centre, her cousin waited for her.

 

Well, when dealing with Hyuuga, there was no point in preparing a surprise attack. And Hanabi had expected nothing less than a ‘power move’ like this.

 

Her cousin could be so dramatic.

 

“Hanabi-hime, why are you pursuing me?” Neji cut straight to the point. 

 

Carefully picking her way into the clearing, Hanabi rolled her shoulder in a casual shrug. “Why do you think?”

 

“Don’t play one of your silly little games, Hanabi-hime.” The older boy spat the words as if they were some vicious slur. Too used to his own games, Hanabi didn't so much as bat an eyelash. “You are just a spoiled little girl. Tell me why you spoke to Hiashi-sama about your  _ weak  _ sister. Why? You loathe her yourself,  _ O Heiress _ .” 

 

Lavender narrowed at pearl.

 

“Hinata is weak, yes. But we both knew that already.” Hanabi gestured to the clearing around them. “But the real question is...why did  _ you  _ try to kill her, and so publically as well?”

 

Jaw twitching, Neji didn't answer. Hanabi didn't need him to, anyway.

 

“You have something to prove, don't you? That you are strong, despite your seal or ‘fate’, and are to be reckoned with.” The seven year old resisted the urge to to fiddle with her hair, instead stepping further into the clearing. “Are you going to kill me, too? Another innocent life saddled with a guilt that is not theirs-” 

 

“ _ It was Hinata’s fault-” _

 

“She was a child, Nii-san!” Hanabi interrupted with a shriek, feeling terribly, terribly young in that moment. Neji had frozen, face still flushed in anger. He hadn't heard Hanabi raise her voice since Hiashi had started her training at four.

 

She soldiered on. “Onee-san was only a baby...do you expect her to have fought back? Or simply... _ died _ ?”

 

“If you think we are so bound to our fate, then why punish my sister for something she had no control over? Would that not be a punishment for the circumstances of her birth, in that case?” 

 

Her cousin was silent. 

 

The small brunette took another breath. “I...I spoke to Otou-sama because I did not want anything be be wasted.”

 

“...Do you speak in regards to myself or…” A pale lip curled into an involuntary sneer, “... _ Hinata-hime?” _

 

Hanabi’s face was bland. “And if I said ‘both’?”

 

Neji crossed his arms and glared off to the side. “Then you would be even more stupid than I thought.” 

 

Sensing that the possibility of bloodshed had abated (for now), Hanabi lowered herself to perch on one of the horizontal logs that lined the clearing. After dusting off the worn surface before sitting, Hanabi absentmindedly began straightening herself out as she continued. “You are a prodigy, Neji-niisan. This is a fact. But you will never develop to your full potential if you are not given the opportunity...can you blame me for acting? 

 

Whilst Hanabi had been getting comfortable, her older cousin had wearily followed after her, still staring suspiciously at the Heiress six years his junior. However, at her words, Neji glared down at his cousin with renewed vigour.

 

“You may be destined to succeed Hiashi-sama, Hanabi-hime, but you are only a mere academy student, a first year. You have no business meddling in affairs of which you have no understanding.” The older boy jerked his chin back the way they had come. “Go back to your tea ceremonies.”

 

Inwardly seething, Hanabi only allowed the smallest smile to slip through.

 

“No.”

  
  
  
  



	2. The Student

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanabi has much to learn, despite being ahead of the curve. From both those close to home...and others.

............................................................

_ You have shed a thousand skins to become the person you are today. _

............................................................

The afternoon was warm, hazy and gold in the midsummer heat, as Hanabi made her way to the Main House.

 

The trees thinned out as the young Heiress silently picked her way between the trunks, careful of her lilac slippers. She was silent as a ghost, all too aware that every moment could be used for training, from practising her silent footsteps, to not leaving a trail. Anything else was wasteful in a way that was unbefitting of Hanabi’s potential.

The key to true progress was consistency. Always improving, practising, moving forward. That was the issue with ninja. They never improved at all or they only did so when  _ forced.  _ Life or death, a promotion...such  _ short-sightedness _ . As for those rare gems, the prodigies? They progressed at such unprecedented rates, they held little drive. For example, Hatake Kakashi, a broken shell of a man. Or, conversely, a far greater flare than was safe. Psychopaths like Orochimaru or Uchiha Itachi, who had lost their humanity. 

A human soul was a controversial topic for those who devoted their lives, from childhood to bloody demise, to murder. However, it was important to recall their mortality and the fragility of mankind, beyond the ease of taking a life.

So many had faltered in these ways. But Hanabi had always been a problem solver, a thinker, and she knew that self-awareness would be her saving grace. She would not fail like all the others.

Maybe, she wondered, Neji could be the same one day.

_ “No.” _

_ Neji narrowed those pearlescent eyes at her, a furrow of frustration marring the pale marble of his bandaged forehead. Hanabi didn’t even blink, calmly crossing her legs at the ankle and waiting for her cousin’s inevitable response. _

_ “...What is the real reason you’re doing this?” _

_ The smaller brunette didn’t allow her eyes to slip from his. He’d only take it as a victory, of dominance, no matter how minute. “I want to change things, be stronger. I think that’s a goal we share, Neji-nii-san.” _

_ He didn’t reply, merely turned to the side to assess his targets. However, he hadn’t put his back to her in a dismissal of her strength and skill, which was a definite success in the Heiress’ book.  _

_ And...he hadn’t denied anything either. _

Her cousin was promising, as had clearly been displayed earlier. But Hanabi was not convinced. He had strength but it was also so very fragile, brittle, forged in his hate and resentment. As it was now, Neji’s life could only bring death, to either himself or the two sisters. There would be no other alternative.

But, if she could  _ cultivate  _ that, turn that burn for revenge into a will to succeed, then she’d kill two birds with one stone. Protecting her own position, from both an attack by her cousin and in twisting him to follow her, and in also saving her cousin’s fate.

She’d never known Neji before his father had died, simply because she hadn’t been born. But…Hinata still loved him dearly, and still would, even after his attempts today. Hanabi was  _ curious _ to understand  _ why _ .

The forest disappeared, replaced by her late mother’s koi garden, and Hanabi slowed to a deceptively dawdling walk as if she’d been meandering the grounds the entire time. If any of her Clan had their Byakugan activated, her alibi would be blown from the water, but alternate plans were never to be undervalued. Many had counted on their Dojutsu when they needn’t have. Their eyes were tiring to use, so it was rare for them to be activated without due cause. Especially in the relative safety of the Compound or Village.

Hanabi had scarcely been in the garden ten minutes when one of her tutors came looking for her.

Bent, as if to examine the elegant fish that glided through the central pool, Hanabi did not notice the older woman’s approach until the slightest shifting of gravel reached her ears. She resisted the urge to activate her eyes, lest the approaching figure had already done so.

Hanabi was known for being a good fighter, not a prodigy of the Dojutsu. The young Heiress intended to keep it that way.

“Hanabi-hime, your writing lesson is scheduled for this afternoon,” Amaya-sensei tutted, clearly affronted at being left waiting. The girl in question turned around and dipped her head gracefully, the picture of chastisement.

“Forgive me, sensei. I was delayed after the matches and time slipped away from me.”

The older woman, her Hyuuga-dark hair a gleaming white in her age, merely turned up her nose, nostrils pinched with displeasure. She was one of the more expressive Hyuuga, more than willing to let anyone and everyone know how much she disliked everything.

Swallowing her sigh, Hanabi followed the older women back inside.

……………………………………………………..

_ ‘Thwack’, ‘thwack’, ‘thwack’- _

Silently, Hanabi evaded each hit, redirecting the blows with smooth bends of her forearms. Conserving her energy was key; her opponent was so much stronger, taller and older, she had no hope of stopping the strikes head-on.

Her sparring partner pressed her insistently, giving the seven-year-old no quarter as he ruthlessly sought out the weakest points in her defence.

Her knee was cramping after he’d used the slippery floors to knock her feet from under her, her palms stinging and forearms already covered in developing bruises.

“Again,” Kou demanded, his face a mask of mild neutrality.

Hanabi obeyed, finding him impossible to read.

Her sister’s old guardian, assigned since she was a small child, was known throughout the village as the most approachable Hyuuga. He smiled openly and was a kind, honest individual. Hinata was close to him, her eyes softening every time they fell on the tall figure of her personal guard. Hanabi had never been his initiative but he had always been polite, kind.

That was not the man who faced her down now.

He was impassive as a rock, eyes as hard as lilac moonstones, and his blows fell like boulders on the student’s arms.

Hinata would have been downed long ago, crying over her aching limbs. Neji would’ve grown angry, perhaps, and lashed out. 

Hanabi  _ endured _ .

“Enough.” Kou eventually halted, straightening up and running his eyes over Hanabi’s roughed figure. The girl was panting, clothing rumpled, with loose strands of hair sticking to her shiny forehead. Even now though, she was disciplined. She did not gasp or cry, sliding upright even as her legs trembled and Kou could see the twitch in her knees, her joints locking as the limbs threatened to buckle. 

“Your legs are weak and, when I feign towards your left side, you shift in anticipation. This leaves you open to any other attack. The Byakugan allows us total vision from all directions. However, this weakness is a direct conflict with our style. It must be rectified, immediately.”

He was...hard. Hinata would have a new tutelage, assigned once she was recovered, but Kou would no longer be associated with Hiashi’s eldest. Hanabi understood...he was angry with her.

Regardless, she prefers it this way.

His fondness for her sister had evidently softened him in their spars. Hinata may have always been weak but Kou had not discouraged her softness. Hanabi couldn’t risk such exposure to her own training regime. 

“Hai…” She didn't...know what to call him. Was ‘sensei’ or ‘Shishou’ too presumptuous? The last thing she needed was to be humiliated when he corrected her. 

“....senpai.” 

Pearlescent eyes flickered up to meet her elder's. His expression had not softened. She hadn't expected it to.

“You may address me as Kou-senpai, Hanabi-hime.”

“Hai, Kou-senpai.” Hanabi requested. 

The 20-year-old Jonin nodded shortly, bowing respectfully before taking his leave without another word. 

The door of the training studio slid closed behind him with a low  _ ‘snap’. _

Alone in the empty room, Hanabi grabbed her water flask from the corner and took a generous draught. 

Her teeth tasted like copper, her pounding heart still galloping in her chest. The small brunette was aching to slip down to the floor and rest her trembling limbs but, she knew, that would only bring her greater pain later. Cramps and stiffness were not worth the brief reprieve. 

Dusk had set outside. The night was violet, reflected in the lavender bushes and winding pools just outside on the patio. Two lanterns illuminated the hall, low as to decrease the number of insects attracted, moths that fluttered silently in the sleepy garden. 

Hanabi was pacing, willing her racing pulse to settle and slowly stretching out her tender limbs. 

Her knee was already blossoming a deep plum-purple and, peeking underneath her professional arm wrappings, so were her arms.

No doubt her new senpai had been pulling his blows  _ just  _ enough so he didn't fracture anything. She had to attend school and training tomorrow, after all.

Vaguely, the student wondered how much Kou could bear to hurt Hinata in their spars...he'd probably never even trained her. Vowing to fight every fight for her, just so his  _ precious _ ,  _ delicate _ charge never had to cry.

Hanabi would fight her own battles,  _ unlike _ her sister. 

The air was cooling as she pulled her hair back into a fresh tail, scraping back the strands that had escaped and clung to her damp neck and cheeks. Traditionally, Hyuuga fought with their hair loose. It was symbolic, of their strength as fighters (that no opponent could come close enough to take advantage) and because the Byakugan nullified any visual obstruction.

Hanabi always trained with hers back. She had no place for distraction or vanity. When she was stronger, then she could indulge, just to show she was able. But, until then, she'd remove every possible obstacle from the path of her improvement.

By the time she was finished, having run through her Katas five times a piece as a cool down, it was late. A Branch member had come along briefly, laden with a bowl of warmed water, some dressing and feeling salves.

Hanabi had dismissed her immediately before settling down to tend to her souvenirs from senpai. She would be riddled with welts by morning, dark handprints and mild chants burns. They had only been going through the motions of a spar but, occasionally, Kou would shock her with the barest tap of chakra.

It was a logical training procedure, to keep the young girl on the highest alert. A deterrent when the hits began to blur into one another or when she'd failed to learn from a mistake quickly. 

Hanabi could already tell she was stronger for it.

Sat cross-legged on the polished floors as she re-wrapped her paste-coated arms, Hanabi smirked.  _ Good. _

……………………………………………………..

The Academy was one of the most prevalent triumphs of Senju Tobirama, Nidaime Hokage. 

Almost every hidden village had some facility of education for budding young shinobi-hopefuls, but Konoha’s was different. Not only were orphans openly encouraged to attend but the school was funded by the people, a form of tax that meant guardians did not have to pay upfront fees. This allowed a greater variety of students and, consequently, a broader range of ability and prospects.

“Silence!” Iruka-sensei snarled, slamming his tanned hands onto his desk as his neck tendons corded in fury. 

The rowdy classroom of first years paid him no mind. 

Tucked away in the back corner, Hanabi repressed the urge to roll her eyes. The monsters didn't deserve that _ much  _ recognition.

In the front row, the Sandaime’s grandson roared with laughter, rough-housing with his two friends and generally making a nuisance of himself. If he had the skills to back up his confidence, Hanabi might've been kinder in her assessment of his disturbance. As it was, he was something akin to his grandfather’s monkey summons on her mental ladder of accomplishment, only without the talent and training.

He was a nuisance and she wanted him gone.

The class was impossibly boring, every lesson was, but the Heiress had been raised to be polite and her sensei, although many did not know it, was one of the best trappers in the village. Alongside his decent fuinjutsu skills, a field that was all but desolate in recent years, Umino Iruka was deserving of her respect.

Konohamaru deserved to be slapped out the window.

Hanabi had already learned most of what the academy could teach her but she refused to make a spectacle of herself. Practice made perfect and she wasn't stupid enough to think that just because she knew something, it meant she was an expert. Yes, the written classes, like history and writing, were slow, but the lectures allowed the young Hyuuga time to practise circulating her chakra.

It was….hard.

Activating her Byakugan had always been easy for Hanabi. She'd done so accidentally as a child a number of times. Hinata, when she was just starting off and more open to discussion with her sister (back when they still spoke freely), had described the sensation as that of trying to push rushing water in another direction. Difficult and messy, with energy wasted during the hurried redirection, Hanabi had wondered how it was that her sister was so  _ weak  _ their kekkei genkai rejected her. 

For Hanabi, it was like playing with a ribbon, a solid and taunt stream that flickered and coiled wherever she led it. 

Where she struggled, however, was with the  _ strength _ of her chakra. Her visualisation of a ribbon had helped her, almost,  _ lead  _ her chakra. However, mental blocks were one of the most limiting influences on the possibilities of chakra. 

Hinata felt hers like water, something she could not control and easily overwhelmed her. Hanabi’s was a fixed state, something she could not refine or expand upon. 

Well. Unless she managed to re-teach herself what her chakra  _ was _ . Which was, coincidentally, what she was focusing on now.

But her classmates were animals and she couldn't  _ concentrate _ .

“I. Said.  _ Silence _ !!”

The Academy teacher's hand came down once more, slamming into his desk with a resounding smack, and, finally, the children started to settle down.

Well, all except for one stuck-up little brat. Konohamaru was still laughing. Hanabi wondered if it would be worth it to _Gentle_ _Palm_ his face. 

“Now,” Iruka coughed, a faint blush darkening the tan across his scar. His propensity for embarrassment, particularly after a show of strength, was always disappointing. “For the rest of the lesson, we will be continuing to learn about the relationship between the Shodaime and the Daimyo during the founding of our village. As you can see…”

The boy in front, a Yamanaka from his eyes, started tapping his pen on the desk. Eyes shut in concentration, Hanabi felt the reverberations and her eyebrow twitched.

“...funding and permission to organise a settlement…”

_ Tap, tap, tap- _

“...who can tell me the advisor’s name, hm? Ah, Kiko-chan, yes?...”

_ Tap, tap, tap, tap- _

Her chakra fluttered in her stomach but it was akin to grabbing a water snake with one hand. Her internal energy slipped right through her grasp. 

_ Tap, tap, tap- _

Lashing forwards, swift as a striking cobra, Hanabi plucked the offending pen from Yamanaka’s hands. 

Dirty blonde hair flicked across her desk as the older boy whipped around with a hissed “ _ oi!”. _

Hanabi allowed the faintest frown of displeasure to crumple her brow, just like she'd seen on the Elders. “Please stop that racket. Some of us are here to learn.” 

Soto glared back, pupil-less teal eyes filled with dislike. “Spoilt princess,” he snapped before turning back to the front.

Resisting the urge to kick the back of his chair, Hanabi reminded herself that Yamanaka Soto was smart. He was a good student, book smart.

She'd knock him out of the ring in seconds during the spars later.

“Hanabi-chan,” Iruka-sensei's calm call snapped the small brunette back to attention. “Can you tell us why the Daimyo allowed Senju Hashirama and Uchiha Madara to build a shinobi village?”

A small tongue peeked out to wet pale lips as Hanabi straightened up in her chair. “The Fire Daimyo at the time, Oda Hideyori*, allowed Hashirama-sama to build the village with the understanding that any leader would declare the Daimyo their Liege Lord. We would receive trade and monetary funding from the capital in return for our services. That relationship has remained to this day.”

The scarred Chuunin smiled proudly and nodded as he surveyed the rest of the class, seeking out any sign that there was any misunderstanding. “Good, Hanabi-chan. You are correct.”

Sitting back, Hanabi could almost  _ see  _ the question mark pulsing over the Sarutobi's head.  _ What...an idiot. _

The rest of the class passed excruciatingly slowly. But, Hanabi forced herself to take notes whenever her chakra exercises threatened to anger her. Emotional control was essential! Especially if she didn't want anyone to notice. It wouldn't do for someone to start questioning why an Academy student's chakra was fluctuating so wildly.

When the lesson ended, they were all led outside.

“Okay!” Iruka-sensei smiled, clipboard resting on his hip, as all the students gathered around him on the training fields. “Spars! Then, we'll be practising our kunai throwing as a cool down. First things first, jog twice around the pitch! Off you go-”

Immediately all the boys set off, a chaotic mash-up of elbows and shoving that had Hanabi casting her eyes skywards. Her fellow Kunoichi had set off at a much more reasonable pace, a good few of the prissy ones doing so because they couldn't bear to break a sweat. The smart ones just didn't want to get involved with the stupid boys. It wasn't a  _ race _ , just a warm up! That didn’t stop the competitive idiots from trying to wrestle their way to the front. 

Behind her, Hanabi just about heard the slap of Iruka-sensei’s hand connecting with his forehead.

The two laps took only a few moments, some of the less trained boys falling back after too hard a start and a handful of whiney girls slowing to a walk. Hanabi had kept to the middle (pushing forwards would only focus the boys' competitive ire on her) and kept her breathing as regular as it was when sitting. _ In, out, in, out….easy does it. _

“Okay, that's enough!” sensei called out, fondly exasperated. “When I call your name, enter the ring and make the seal with your opponent. You may only begin once I have called ‘start’ and the spar will continue until one of you forfeits, is unable to continue, or is knocked from the ring. First up, Moegi-chan Vs. Tsumiko-chan.” The two Kunoichi entered the ring, making the Seal of Confrontation before standing ready. “And….start!”

Moegi immediately lunged forwards, left leg sweeping up in a striking sidekick that connected with Tsumiko’s hip that sent the petite blonde staggering sideways. Right into the ginger's fist.

_ ‘smack _ ’-

Tsumiko’s head snapped to the side and Meogi’s friends roared their approval. The class was hooting now, shuffling ever closer to the ring as excited whispers of ‘cat fight’ started going around.

For her part, Hanabi was sorely tempted to turn away, find something more interesting to do. But...these were her classmates, future colleagues and teammates. 

Resisting the urge to activate her eyes, pale lavender furrowed in a frown of concentration….Meogi’s right side was weaker, the majority of her attacks originating from her left, whilst her right was only used for the occasional punch. Her footwork...was solid but unmoving. She'd be difficult to topple but there was no fluidity as she shuffled forwards and backwards in a little square.

Tsumiko, on the other hand...was sloppy. Appallingly so. Her arms had little strength and, even though she was able to get her guard up in time, Moegi’s blows burst straight through them. What good was a wall of defence when it held all the strength and resistance of rice paper? 

Her footwork was desperate, scrambling away from the redhead’s slow advance with frantic glances around to ensure she was still in bounds. Hanabi almost felt… bad for her.

Then again, it was her own fault for neglecting her own personal training, performing the lessons halfheartedly. If she wanted to priss and primp for boys who still thought girls had cooties, she should stay home and ask her parents for a marriage contract.

Being a ninja was serious. They were  _ soldiers.  _ What was glamorous about that?

Moegi struck out with another sidekick, smacking into Tsumiko’s knee and making the blonde crumple. 

“Stop!” sensei called. The blonde's torso lay outside of the chalk ring. “Winner: Meogi-chan!”

The other children roared in approval and Tsumiko crawled upright, hastily making the Seal of Reconciliation with Meogi. Tsumiko was sniffling as her friend wrapped an arm around her shoulders and shot a glare at the victorious ginger.

Stood half a step behind Iruka, Hanabi allowed herself an exhausted sigh. Today was going to be such a long one. 

Four matches later and the only noteworthy thing Hanabi had noticed was how  _ terrible  _ the others were. 

Where they were strong, they had no form or style. Where they were fast, they had no force or defence.  _ Why couldn't they see what was wrong and rectify it _ ? 

“Hanabi-chan Vs Konohamaru-kun!”

Oh _ , great. _

“Yatta!” the Hokage’s grandson crowed, beaming wide and fists raised to the sky. “I'll show you who's boss, Hanabi-chan!”

Hanabi  _ sincerely  _ doubted that. 

But, she met him in the circle anyway. Where Hanabi was dressed in a sleeveless dark purple and mesh tunic (with dark bandages wrapped around her limbs), Konohamaru had that stupidly long scarf trailing along behind him. 

As soon as they'd made the Seal and Iruka called for them to start, Hanabi made a point of grabbing it.

The material was soft and stretchy, plush wool dyed a vibrant blue, and Hanabi was glad. With the inherent stretch, the chances of her strangling the Hokage's grandson were pretty low!

She grabbed the long accessory, swinging the long end of it underneath Konohamaru’s feet like some sort of jump-rope. The boy in question had only had time to take a single step forward before Hanabi was looping the wool around his ankles and yanking.  _ Hard. _

“Stop! Winner: Hanabi-chan!”

Dazed, Konohamaru lifted his head from where he'd bashed it on the hard turf. “Wha-?” Steel-blue eyes focused on the pale hand stretched before him, fingers coiled for the Seal of Reconciliation. “No way, sensei!”

Iruka’s tanned face appeared above him, opposite Hanabi’s own. “Make the Seal, Konohamaru-kun,” he scolded and the Sandaime’s grandson did so, scowling. 

“Better luck next time, Kono-kun!”

“Yeah! You'll show her next time!”

Meogi and the bespectacled, snotty boy (Noodle, or something) scarpered over and Hanabi took several steps back. They were  _ dog-piling _ him. 

Pearlescent eyes flickered over to Iruka-sensei but the man was too busy calling up the next pair to spar and barely spared the trio a glance. 

“Alright, next match-!”

_ No wonder he'd been so easy to beat...he never pays attention _ . 

 

“Ready? Start!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- Chapter 2! Thank you to everyone who's bookmarked, subscribed and commented, I'm so thrilled and I hope you enjoy this! <3

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hey! New fic! This was born from my hatred of the sexist way Kishi treated all the female characters and my extremely chaotic Discord chat. Careful, folks, shit's about to get real. Enjoy!~ X
> 
> P.S; Shoutout to Katlou303 for being my Beta and my Discord lovelies for all the inspiration~ x


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